


Acceptance.

by theroosnest



Category: Mean Girls (2004), Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Character Study, crossposted from insta, emotional support character, my take on cady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroosnest/pseuds/theroosnest
Summary: Like autumn transforms into winter with a solid snap. going from golden daylight into a cold deep end. She was a master of disguise in so many different ways. A master at hiding behind what she didn't know. But she also had a lot to learn. So as she scattered her heart across the earth, giving it to people who made an influence on her. She took from those around her. Learning lessons as she went. One, by one. By one. because self-acceptance is one of the funniest things. How can you accept these things if you as a person ...don't know who you are. And how do you know who you are if you don't learn?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Acceptance.

**Author's Note:**

> those who follow me on instagram have read this before, I really wanted to post this here because I loved how this turned out. Enjoy :)

_**Acceptance.** _

It's a funny thing one of the funniest to be completely honest. You could accept who you've become, changing the world around yourself to match who they've been expecting. You could accept the wild ways of the world — or. You could hold it back. Allowing your already scared mind to dig in more and more. Not wanting to accept what kinds of changes you need to make. You could accept the ways things go. The moving of gentle waves hitting you as you think at that moment. It's sink or swim. And sometimes — acceptance is knowing it's best for you to sink. Acceptance is speeding down a highway and deciding when it's best to turn around and head homeward bound.

  
With how Cady grew up, she was constantly on the move for a few years. Her parents had one area that needed something, and the next thing she knew... Onto the next one. She didn't get to make many friends, well that was until they settled down in a little Kenyan tribe. By this point, she had accepted some kind of being lonely. Sometimes being alone doesn't equal loneliness. That was one thing she learned about herself. While she only had animals for friends, she didn't see it as a bad thing until the news and the media told her she needed humans for her world to be complete.

Growing up constantly in the wild, constantly needing to check behind you for animals using you like their game. Growing up in Savannah as your backyard teaches you plenty of things. It teaches you to carry your weight because the world is a little too heavy if only one person does the work. You learn to lick your wounds and bounce back. Because if you stay down too long the lions will come to pull you apart. You learn to enjoy baths in the rivers, a rhino constantly watching you. You learn to love the same five or so tee shirts you wear. Getting a new one occasionally from a relative you haven't seen in years with some shitty slogan like "welcome to the big apple. Come take a bite again." That makes you laugh over truly how stupid it is. 

  
Nights hearing new music instead of the 80's rock you've grown to love. Those become something you're not accustomed to. But the time you spend sneaking into concerts with your dad, on his shoulders. Your mom is waving a flashlight next to you. Those become your safe spot, holy ground in some way. They sneak you in one or two times. Mentioning the security wouldn't see it as a place for a child. So reckless wonder-filled nights with your parents become a new religion. You wake up, your head pounding but you can still feel the buzz from the night before bubbling beneath your skin. Sticking to you tightly like a tattoo. You watch as people grow up, some of the people in the tribes going off to college. Promising to write you letters. And in a way....they take part of your heart with them.

You learn that you can use a firefly as a nightlight. And that your demons can sometimes be your best friend when it comes to sitting in a Jeep alone. the conversations you two share might not always be the friendliest, but at least they have something to say. Which is more than the silence can call for.  
Some people grow out of their demons when they grow out of fears. When they overcome the dark, the dentist— those demons vanish. Like they were part of some magic act. Yours have stayed. Because while they're dark and arched... They look like you.

  
Out of the lessons you take the most from your 16 years, it's _**𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒆**_. You learn to go with the wind and cover yourself as needed. You learn when it's best to become one thing. And when to become another. Which she guessed looking back years later — is why she was good at being plastic. You learn to cover yourself in grasses and weeds to blend in. You learn that sometimes, admitting you can't do something and hiding is better than being chased by a rhino. With all of this though, you also learn camouflage amongst humans. People will take you as you are. But there are some that if you aren't what they want... You can walk away now.

  
Like autumn transforms into winter with a solid snap. going from golden daylight into a cold deep end. She was a master of disguise in so many different ways. A master at hiding behind what she didn't know. But she also had a lot to learn. So as she scattered her heart across the earth, giving it to people who made an influence on her. She took from those around her. Learning lessons as she went. One, by one. By one. because self-acceptance is one of the funniest things. How can you accept these things if you as a person ...don't know who you are. And how do you know who you are if you don't learn?

  
From the women in the tribe who constantly went to get water for their families. Large buckets and baskets balancing on their heads. She learned about sacrifice. It often took hours. Sometimes a full day for the five-mile walk. But they did it. She remembered taking the walk with them one day. Just to see how it was done. And she felt ready to give up halfway through. She couldn't imagine doing this every week. Sometimes twice a week. But they were constant, bold and didn't stop for anything. When one woman fell and got hurt they would wait for her, another woman carrying her water. When a second assisted her with her wound. They took care of one another. Allowed the wildlife not to be so wild. 

  
From the children who ran and played she learned gratitude. She had lived there for most of her life, and she still found a way to whine. The children loved the occasional sweets her family brought from the market. loved the morning hikes and never seemed to complain. They took what was given and had thankful hearts through it all. From them, she also learned how to look at life with a smile on their face. In the first 16 years of her life she felt lonely. She learned how to look at them with bright eyes and take their courage as her own. In a way — from those kids, she learned how to take adventures and be grateful for what was to come.

Her parents were the most natural people for her to take things from. She was told she was the exact clone of her mother and father. From her mother she got her love for the simple things. Her wild strawberry hair as it blew in blew cautionless through the wind. She got the freckles that blew across her face like cinnamon on toast or dirt as it hits glasses, from her mother. She got her bright blue eyes, and watched as they turned deadly at the sight of passing ships. She got her tongue from her mom. Her sharp wit from the woman too. Betsy Heron in absolutely no way was a soft woman. Though she was seemingly calm, sometimes it's those ones you least expect to burn.

  
From her dad she got his elegance. The way she took situations with all she had. Not letting those around her down. She also got his stubborn nature. The way he broke rules to not admit he was wrong. She got his hippie heart. The way it took control and looked for the simple things. Her dad was a kind man, but he was fiercely passionate for all he did. So in a way — she also gained his anger. She was a perfect mix of the two. 

  
When she left they watched as she passed, taking each heart with her. Cady walked around carelessly, her eyes shining brightly. Like she didn't know about the trail of ghosts that followed her out. They watched as each demon she would wear proudly around Africa attached themselves to the boxes. Waving with her as they would also need to get comfortable with whatever life came along, each demon hung to her plaid shirt. Weaving themselves around all that was needed to hang around. For some reason, they believed she was the maddest woman they had ever seen.

Blue eyes carving in holes in the wild side of things. This was the girl who used to chase down lions to give them their shots, this was the girl that used to hug onto alligators to check their body temperature. She was the bravest one, the one the world needed to look out for. But yet, she was the loneliest. Even with her demon latching it's way onto her. 

  
Cady didn't know who she was completely until she arrived in the United States. Of course she knew she was a Heron. And Herons were natural fighters. They were the ones who took control naturally. But her mom was a world wide ranked biologist now teaching for Northwestern... Her dad is known for his case studies that helped with a major step in animal health. Yet there was Cady. A rush of red hair that flew by whenever she ran. A speck of stardust that might have gotten sparkled into the wrong galaxy. A wildflower in a garden of roses in full bloom. Flowers are always pretty until you discover their thorns. When she was growing up she didn't know who she was. Or where she was going. She was a red haired hurricane disguised wisely behind something seemingly tied together.

  
From Illinois you learn about the smokey skies where you can't see skies for miles. You learn about deep dish pizza that to you? Tastes like cardboard. You learn about people, the slang they say and the words they mention. You learn about the homeless on the streets when volunteering at food banks with your parents. Them wanting to find a way to give back. Your cheery disposition a nice difference compared to the rest of the world they had been used to.  
Even though you're still getting used to the place and its people. To them, you were told you feel like home. 

Northshore is a different case. From the first day you learn about staying true to yourself like Damian. Or to fight for yourself like Janis. You learn to be a boss like Regina. Or to care for those around you like Karen. You somehow learn to love yourself through Gretchen. From Aaron you learn compassion. And from the mathletes you learn about staying true to a tribe. Day one you're pushed into knowing where you belong. You don't get a chance to learn things about yourself. So you once again take and take from others. The demons around you dangling by a thread. Ready to stick their white flag in surrender. These traits you take, all wonderful. And from them you guess you learn how to blend in. Once again playing a part in a play where you're not sure if you're your own leading lady. 

  
**_𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒆_** , though it was often an animal's best trait. Often in other cases it was also their biggest sabotage. One chameleon, if not careful, could grab onto another chameleon’s arm, both falling to an untimely death. If a lemur doesn’t hide quickly enough into the trees, or hides too well a predator could catch them. Leading them to an uncomfortable sense of false safety. Worst of all, sometimes you don't know when you need to use camouflage. Watching as something or someone seemingly so wonderful — but so insignificant can tear apart everything you work for. You know the world isn't always the most fair, but you wish you were able to warn yourself. Give some kind of warning. Some kind of symbol. "RUN" you wish you could shout from on top the highest rooftop. Because you know someday, you won't be able to shout any further. You wanted to come down gently. Allow the wings to form, but something in you couldn't go down in grace. And instead left you to wonder. Where was the camouflage now that you needed it most?

hey kick at you, letting your blended disguise that seemed so perfect fall flat. You sit and think about the damage you've done. Your demons tighter and tighter with their grasp tied to you. Holding you still, like chains vipered around you. These demons were trying to keep you safe — maybe all along you were the demon and these? They were your angels. The things you should have kept pure.

  
You look into the mirrors, the death of your own reputation from Africa blazing behind you. And at that moment. You feel the most alive. Because they tried to destroy you from what you did, but what they didn't see coming is who you decided to become. 

  
From yourself, you learned to be fearless. Taking in all you needed to be. You learned that sometimes someone's opinion can mean the world, but opinions — they're opinions until proven facts. People throw rocks, attempting to see if the house you built yourself on is glass. Because they think you don't know any better. From the pink lipstick and tight curled hair, you scrub it off. You're a warrior either way. You just needed to notice it a little better. This wasn't your story to tell, you've been used as someone's cautionary tale. 

Finally though, after years of wishing. After years of praying and holding on. You finally recognize yourself in the mirror. Something that didn't happen in the last few years. You look and examine your fiery locks that though they're a little more tame. They're bright, they're yours. You see your blue eyes and know now how they were able to tame seas and oceans. You see the freckles, and smile. You don't know how many there are. But you're not attempting to count them all. Your crooked smile, it's there. This is you? And you've been trying to hide from it…? trying to disguise who you were? You feel a tap on your shoulder though.

  
And you see them. They're your demons. They're the same but they have wings. They're friendlier, they're brighter and look more at home. They've accepted this landing pad as their own. The new way of life you've given. You were pushed through hell. And here you are smiling.

  
Those demons look at you and go "are you ready?" That's when you can nod your head. Your red haired halo forming around you. And you can say "I'm ready." Hearing their voices hitch, and break before saying. _**"𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒆'𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓."**_

  
_**Acceptance. What a funny little thing.** _


End file.
